“They say that a duck's quack
doesn't echo.” The old man slurred as he swung the half empty
fluted glass of bubbly in an arch before him. His audience, teachers
the lot of them, watched on in stunned awe. “Which is of course
preposterous. I mean a quack from a duck is just ordinary sound,
waves of energy that are disturbing air molecules, much like energy
is passed through water in wave form from one point to another.
Saying that a duck's quack doesn't make an echo is like saying that a
dropping a corvette into a pond won't make a splash. Just because
it's a corvette! And of course we all know it does. Well, we're all
willing to try that experiment at least. I think that Mrs. Stolly
has a corvette.” The old man grinned.

An expanding ripple laughter
passed through the crowd of educators. Polite, or nervous? It was
difficult to tell. What was the difference? At least half of them
would love to see Mrs. Stolly's corvette dumped into a pond, maybe
with the woman herself strapped in it. Her husband too. And their
dog. Just saying so aloud, wasn't too wise if one wanted to remain
employed for very long. The old man didn't seem to take heed of any
such niceties as he just plowed forward with the lecture, the pitch
of his voice rising as his excitement grew.